


Incapacitation

by Chocchi



Series: Close Calls [3]
Category: Persona 4
Genre: Gen, Gen or Pre-Slash, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-19
Updated: 2013-09-19
Packaged: 2017-12-27 00:26:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/972116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chocchi/pseuds/Chocchi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yosuke wakes up and his lungs hurt and his arms hurt and his ass hurts and his head hurts, and really, he just hurts in general, okay?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Incapacitation

**Author's Note:**

> Yosuke was unconscious at the end of my battle with Shadow Teddie! Don't ask me what did him in, it was like two months ago by now.  
> A friend was trying to comment on one of the previous Close Calls stories the other day, and when she said "I think it started with an 'I'" I realized both of them started with "I" so when I went to title this I thought, what the hell.  
> As always, I would adore comments and constructive criticism, or really any feedback at all!

There’s a rush of darkness and a heart-stopping roar, but the giant, twisted bear goes down, they did it, they beat him, and Souji starts to smile, to beam with the thrill he feels, and he instinctively turns to share it with--

“Yosuke!”

 

Yosuke wakes up and his lungs hurt and his arms hurt and his ass hurts and his head hurts, and really, he just hurts in general, okay?

His eyes aren’t even open yet-- there’s a bright light, beyond his eyelids, and _that_ hurts, but when he tries to squeeze them more tightly shut, it hurts even _more_ , and he doesn’t even want to _think_ about trying to get his shoulder to rotate enough to cover his eyes with his hand.

He takes a deep breath, with the intent of complaining, but oh, hey there, bruised ribs, and instead he wastes the precious new air on a vicious, wheezing, “ _Fuck!_ ”

Immediately, there’s a hand pressed against his cheek, and an anxious voice pleads, “Don’t, don’t-- careful--”

Souji.

“Partner?” Yosuke coughs.

“I’m right here,” Souji says, voice pitched to be soothing, even though he’s doing a shitty job of hiding his concern. Yosuke tries to be indignant about the fact that he’s being reassured at all, but it’s _Souji_ , and he feels like his body is one gigantic bruise, and the hand on his cheek _does_ feel nice. It’s kind of cool, and he’s feeling a little overheated. “Yosuke? Talk to me. Can you open your eyes?”

“No,” Yosuke whines, almost twitching with the effort of not trying to squeeze his eyes more tightly shut again.

“Please?” Souji wheedles. His hand slides to a position that’s almost-- _cradling_ Yosuke’s face, the tip of a finger almost brushing the corner of Yosuke’s eye. That’s nice, too. “Come on, buddy. Can you try?”

“Don’t wanna,” Yosuke says, petulantly. Doesn’t Souji understand how _bright_ it is?

"Try for me? Just once, Yosuke, I promise. Just try once and if it hurts too much, I won't ask you to try again."

It _already_ hurts, but-- it's just the once, isn't it? And it's for Souji. So he can just try the once, and it won't work, and Souji will understand and--

He forces his eyelids open, and it’s _bright_ , it’s so so so bright and it _hurts_ , it’s burning and blinding and disorienting and he only realizes he’s fucking _whimpering_ when Souji’s hand jerks away from his cheek to shield his eyes. His head lolls to the side, and his neck protests but what is he going to do about it?

“Hush, hush,” Souji is murmuring, moving over him to block out the light. Yosuke tries to choke off the whimpering and ends up keening instead. “Oh-- shhh, shh, it’s okay, it’s okay. I’m right here. Is this better?”

“No,” Yosuke grits out, blinking furiously. His eyes refuse to adjust, and Souji’s face, dim in his own shadow, won’t come into focus. All Yosuke can keep track of is the way the bright light beyond him is turning his hair into a shining silver halo.

 _Appropriate_ , Yosuke decides, followed shortly by _I absolutely did not just think that, no I did not._

“Hurts,” he mumbles.

“I know,” Souji whispers. “I know, buddy.”

“Wh’happened?”

“Teddie’s shadow got a good swing at you, I guess.” Souji’s free hand slides up to cradle his cheek again, tilting his face back upright. It strains at his neck less, this way, which-- good. Souji did good. Like he always does. “Right before we took him out. You were-- you were pretty badly off.”

“Yukiko,” Yosuke says.

“Yukiko,” Souji agrees.

“Should buy her flowers or something,” Yosuke mutters, and Souji chokes out a laugh.

“I don’t think we can afford to buy her flowers every time she saves our sorry asses.”

“Probly not,” Yosuke agrees. His eyes start to flutter closed again.

“Hey, don’t do that,” Souji says, hastily, thumb slipping over to brush the skin under Yosuke’s eye. “C’mon, Yosuke. You gotta stay awake.”

“Why,” Yosuke whines. He gives Souji a squinty glare.

“Yukiko wants to check on you again.”

“Here?” Yosuke starts trying to crane his neck to see around Souji, but he almost immediately cringes and resigns himself to lying prone. Except he’s not-- he’s not _really_ prone, not with Souji watching over him. He knows Souji will protect him.

“She’s not here right now,” Souji tells him. “She’s taking the others back to the entrance. She’ll come back with Chie soon.”

Yosuke groans.

“You don’t want more healing?” Souji raises an eyebrow at him, the finger’s on Yosuke’s face brushing the edge of what feels an awful lot like a bruise.

“Healing’s fine,” Yosuke grumbles. “Don’t want Chie t’come.”

“Why not?”

Yosuke struggles with this, for a minute, because he doesn’t know how to phrase it without sounding stupid and he can’t even try to make faces until Souji just magically _understands_ , because his face hurts too much, so he ends up settling for a weak, frustrated growl.

“You big baby,” Souji says, fondly, because _of course_ he somehow understands anyway. “It’s not like it’s the first time you’ve fallen on your ass in front of her.”

“Different,” Yosuke insists.

“Yosuke,” Souji says. “You were really brave out there, you know that? You’re always brave, but up against the big shadows-- I know you guys have your weird loving abuse thing, but Chie really does respect you, okay? She’s not gonna look down on you. She was worried about you, too.”

Yosuke grumbles discontentedly.

“Also,” Souji says, giving him a stern look, “She’s the only one who hasn’t had the crap beaten out of them, this afternoon. I feel a lot better with her escorting Yukiko.”

“Well,” Yosuke flounders. “For Yukiko, then.”

“How self-sacrificing of you,” Souji murmurs, gently teasing. He brushes some of Yosuke’s hair off his forehead. “How are your eyes doing? Can I move my hand, or is it still too bright?”

It’s still a little bright, but everything seems pretty well focused now-- only a little fuzzy at the very edges of his vision, or if he tries to shift his gaze too fast.

“You can move,” he says.

Souji’s hand trails away, but he doesn’t move his elbow from where it’s positioned next to Yosuke’s shoulder, keeping him propped protectively over Yosuke’s body.

 _Protectively_ echoes around his head for a minute, before latching on to _Yukiko needs an escort_ and leading Yosuke to the stunning realization that “We’re still in the TV?”

“Yeah,” Souji says. Yosuke’s face must do something, because he adds, hurriedly, “We’re not-- we’re pretty safe, right here. I haven’t seen any shadows in here since the second time we came in, so--”

“The second time we--” Yosuke tries to sit upright, ends up hissing in pain with Souji making fretting noises and easing his shoulders back down. “Konishi Liquor? Really?”

“I know you don’t like it here,” Souji mumbles, contrite, “And I don’t blame you, but it seemed-- it seemed like the safest place to come, you know? Nobody thought we’d be able to get you all the way out without making anything worse, so we had to... find a place.”

“Whatever,” Yosuke mutters. Souji continues to look guilty. “Stop it. ‘M not mad or whatever.”

“Yeah?” Souji’s lips quirk up a little, the barest suggestion of a hopeful smile.

“Fixed me up and got me to the safest place you could ‘til you could fix me up some more,” Yosuke huffs. “Dunno what I have to complain about.”

“Plenty, I’m sure,” Souji says. His fingers brush the edge of Yosuke’s shirt collar, gentle against skin that feels raw and sore.

“I’m all black and blue, aren’t I?”

“Your face could be worse.”

“Could be worse,” Yosuke repeats. “That’s-- reassuring.”

“I don’t want to lie to you,” Souji says, apologetically.

“I know,” Yosuke says. Souji’s great like that. “Thanks.”

“Yukiko will patch you up,” Souji assures him. “And I’ll help you talk to your parents, if you want.”

“You’ve never even met my parents,” Yosuke points out. “They don’t actually _know_ you.”

“You mean to say you don’t talk about me endlessly even when I’m not around?” Souji jokes, he’s _joking_ , but now that Yosuke’s thinking about it he kind of _does_ , and goddammit he’s not blushing. He’s not. He’s _not!_

“Oh my god,” Souji says. “ _Do you?_ ”

“ _No_ ,” Yosuke says, firmly, but he knows, _knows_ , dammit, that his burning cheeks are telling a different story.

“You _do_ ,” Souji says, sure enough. Yosuke wants to feel mortified, but-- but Souji doesn’t look weirded out or anything, not really. He looks-- he looks a lot of things, and Yosuke’s head still hurts too much to try to decipher all the tiny nuances of his expression, but mostly he just looks the happiest he has since Yosuke woke up, so obviously it’s all okay, right? As long as Souji’s not freaking out, it’s fine. And it’s not that weird, really. Souji’s his best friend. It only makes sense that he talks about his best friend.

“Don’t worry,” Souji says, after a long moment of fond scrutinization. “I’ll let you put this down to the concussion, later, if you want.”

“Concussion?” Yosuke protests.

“Don’t try to tell me you don’t have a concussion,” Souji warns him. “You have a concussion.”

“I--” Yosuke grimaces. “Okay, I probably have a concussion.” He frowns up at Souji. “Is that why you wouldn’t let me go back to sleep, earlier?”

“No,” Souji mumbles, ducking his head so that his bangs are almost brushing Yosuke’s collarbone.

“No?” Yosuke tries to find an angle that will let him see Souji’s face in exchange for minimal pain. “Why not, then?”

“Was being selfish,” Souji mutters. “I was-- I was really, really worried about you. Once you’d woken up I didn’t--” he pauses to swallow, hard. “It was harder to get scared. When you were awake.”

“Oh,” Yosuke breathes.

“I thought,” Souji’s breath hitches, and his head drops even further, forehead resting on Yosuke’s shoulder. “I-- Yosuke, I almost thought you were--”

“Stop,” Yosuke says, quickly. Guilt twists, clear and hard, in his gut-- he knows what Souji is saying, remembers the dizzying, awful panic from when Souji was poisoned after fighting Kanji, from every close call he’s had. He doesn’t have any idea what the hell to call that feeling, really, just knows it’s sharp and painful and ninety-nine percent of the reason he catches himself throwing his own body between Souji and blows he can’t handle, even though Souji yells and worries and makes a big fuss out of it _every time_.

“I thought,” Souji chokes. Yosuke realizes, with a horrible flare of alarm, that something right around where Souji’s eyes should be is dampening his shirt. “I thought--!”

“I’m not,” Yosuke hisses. Suddenly, somehow, he manages to shove himself into a sitting position, gritting his teeth against the pain. Souji jerks back, eyes wide and watery and his mouth already open to protest, but Yosuke forces his sore, stiff arms up and claps a hand on either side of Souji’s face. “Souji. _I’m not_.”

“You can’t-- Yosuke that has to hurt--”

“Don’t you dare cry,” Yosuke says, viciously, ignoring him. “I’m _not_ , Souji. I’m _okay_.”

“You’re not okay,” Souji says, thickly, hands coming up to grab, gently, at Yosuke’s forearms. “You’re one gigantic bruise, you have a concussion, you can’t even _sit up_ without being in pain--”

He really can’t. His ribs think this is the worst idea he’s had since-- well, probably since he actually took the hit that did this, and he knows there’s a harsh tremble through his entire torso, his body aching with the effort of staying upright. But _Souji has to know_.

“Did we do it?” he demands. “Did we save Rise? And Teddie?”

“Yes-- but--”

“Am I gonna make it out okay?”

“Well--”

“Well then what’s the problem here?”

“The problem is that you won’t _lie the hell back down_ ,” Souji snaps, and Yosuke would be offended if he didn’t recognized the worried furrow of Souji’s brow. He sticks his tongue out, and tries to ease himself back down, but-- _ow--_

Souji gets an arm around Yosuke’s shoulders, and a hand cradling the back of his head, and slowly, so slowly lowers him back to the floor.

“Thanks,” Yosuke mutters.

“You’re really stupid sometimes,” Souji says, sounding almost helpless, as he carefully works his arm out from under Yosuke’s back. He leaves his other hand where it is, fingers tangling with apparent absentmindedness into Yosuke’s hair. “You-- you know the fact that we won doesn’t somehow make it okay that you-- that you got hurt, don’t you?”

“As the one with the bruises,” Yosuke says. “I am aware of this, yes. But that was totally not my point.”

“You’re impossible,” Souji informs him. He’s playing with Yosuke’s hair. Yosuke’s not even sure he realizes he’s doing it. Well-- it feels nice enough, and Souji already said he’d let Yosuke use the whole _concussion_ thing as a pass, didn’t he? So it’s alright if he doesn’t tell Souji to stop. It’s fine. “Hey, will you--”

“Yes,” Yosuke answers, promptly, then amends, “Probably.”

Souji’s lips curve into a tired, exasperated smile. “You have no idea how I was going to finish that. I could be daring you to do something embarrassing.”

“You wouldn’t,” Yosuke says. “Not while I’m vulnerable, anyway.”

“You trust me too much,” Souji huffs. He doesn’t look particularly unhappy about this.

“You’re a trustworthy guy.” Yosuke rolls his eyes. Like there’s any reason at all for him not to trust Souji. “Are you actually going to ask me something, or will I forever live in fear of what I’ve agreed to?”

“I was gonna ask if you wanted to stay over tonight,” Souji says. His fingernails scrape pleasantly against Yosuke scalp, and Yosuke catches himself leaning into it with a quiet sigh. “I mean-- just, you know, give us some time to figure out just how bad your bruises are gonna be, before we try to tell your parents it was another bike crash.”

“Plausible,” Yosuke decides.

“Only with your bike,” Souji mutters, then, louder, “We’ll see. That’s a yes, right?”

“That’s a yes,” Yosuke says. “Also me conveniently ignoring your completely transparent excuse to watch me like a crazy mother hen.”

Souji gives him a dark look. Evidently tries to, anyway.

It’s not really working out for him. Maybe if he looked a little less relieved?

“Can I sleep until Yukiko gets here?”

“No,” Souji says, mildly, and Yosuke sighs and settles in to wait.


End file.
